Dances With Uncles
by Tinuviel's Song
Summary: Bilbo has something to teach Frodo. Not Slash.
1. Chapter 1: The Madness of Bilbo

**TITLE:** Dances With Uncles  
**AUTHOR:** Tinuviel's Song

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Frodo, Bilbo, The Springle-Ring, or anything else Lord of the Rings-related, for that honor is bestowed upon only one man, the great and powerful Oz- er, Tolkien!  
**SUMMARY:** Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out!  
**RATING:** G  
**CHARACTERS:** Bilbo, Frodo  
**SPOILERS:** Not much, if you didn't know diddlysquat about LotR, already…  
**NOTES: **This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

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**Chap. 1: The Madness of Bilbo**

It was a typically chilly morning on the 29th of Blotmath, 1392, when a twenty-four-year-old Frodo Baggins awoke to see a profusely wrinkled face grinning widely at him. Startled, Frodo shot out of bed and bolted across the room, nearly tripping over the numerous books and items of clothing lying on the floor as he ran. He took a mental note to clean up his room after the psycho was done killing him.

As Frodo looked back cautiously at his grinning intruder, he realized that it was only his 'uncle', Bilbo. 'O! Uncle, you startled me. I could've sworn you were some dastardly troll, ready to chop me up into a million pieces with a nice, sharp rock and cook me in a stew!' Frodo breathed, clutching his pounding heart. Bilbo chuckled merrily.

'Well, I don't much appreciate being called a troll, but I do apologize for alarming you, lad.' Bilbo said, another big grin creeping across his face. Frodo nodded quietly and smiled a molecular smile.

A thick silence fell upon them for a long, drawn-out moment. Bilbo began rocking back and forth on his heels (a nervous habit of his), the floorboards creaking, and Frodo looked about the room offhandedly, humming an unknown tune. After standing in silence for what seemed like forever and a week, Frodo put an end to his one-hobbit symphony to give a sigh.

'So…' Frodo said slowly, picking a piece of unseen lint from his nightshirt. 'Why exactly did you wake me in such a peculiar manner, might I ask?'

'Well,' Bilbo said, clearing his throat rather noisily and taking a step forward. 'As you know, Yule is not long away…'

'Yes… I know…' Frodo said in a 'Come on, pick up the pace!' tone.

'…And you _still_ haven't learned to dance. Every year, it's the same thing: You sit in some lone chair and watch the others as they dance and chat amongst themselves. Well, there'll be no more of that. How do you expect to meet new people, woo a lass when you can't even _dance_ with them? I've even heard that Miss Gypsophila Chubb has her eye on you.' Frodo went red. Gypsophila (usually called "Gypsy") was the prettiest girl in the Shire, as far as he was concerned, and hearing that she fancied him was like being told that he'd just won a million dollars. How Bilbo acquired this information of Frodo liking her is unknown, since Frodo never even spoke of her to Bilbo.

'Sh- She does?' Frodo stammered, his blue eyes growing so wide that you would think they would pop like over-inflated balloons if they became any bigger.

'Why, of course she does, you lady-slayer.' Bilbo teased playfully, elbowing Frodo's arm. Frodo flushed three shades of red. Bilbo was lying a bit by saying that Frodo had her eye on Frodo (she was, in fact, not interested in anyone at the moment). He was also lying by saying that _everyone_ could dance at the parties, but he was on a roll, so he decided to continue. 'And I bet she wonders why you never want to dance with her during parties. She probably thinks you're slighting her. You wouldn't want to break the poor lass's heart, now, would you?' Bilbo pouted.

N- No, Uncle.' Frodo stammered, shaking his head so hard that his curly mop of hair slapped the sides of his face. '…Who is to teach me to dance?' He found himself asking before he could stop himself.

'Why, that would be _me,_ Frodo, m'lad!' Bilbo exclaimed chipperly.

"_O, chestnuts!" _Frodo thought as his heart sank to a place far below his stomach. 'Wh… Wha… Whi… Who…' Frodo babbled, horrified at the idea of dancing with his older cousin.

'That's right, and we start tomorrow morning.' Bilbo announced chirpily, walking briskly out of the room and yelling halfway down the hall that breakfast would soon be ready to eat.

Frodo let out an exhausted 'uhg!', falling backwards onto his bed with such force that his comforter floated over him on both sides and formed a simulation of a red, fuzzy cocoon. _"O, chestnuts!"

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_

Um… Yeah… I was bored an' hyper at 11:00 at night, so I wrote this, especially for YOU, Fwe! bg I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Leave a review and I'll give you more to read (if you liked it, at least).


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Dances With Uncles  
AUTHOR: Tinuviel's Song

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Frodo, Bilbo, The Springle-Ring, or anything else Lord of the Rings-related (sadly). If I did, I'd be filthy rich and living in a little seaside cottage on the Eastern Coast of Scotland, but we can't always get what we want, can we? (_sigh)_  
SUMMARY: Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…  
RATING: G  
CHARACTERS: Bilbo, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin  
SPOILERS: Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…  
NOTES: This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys. I really appreciate it. :)

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**Chap. 2: Tea for Two and Two for Tea**

Later that day, Frodo went out into the frozen world, accompanied by Bilbo's gardener's twelve-year-old son, Samwise Gamgee. Samwise, known by most as 'Sam', had begged his father to let him come over to the Bagginses', since he quite enjoyed following around Frodo, who he had sought out as a role-model.

As the two hobbit-lads tramped along the frosted road towards town (fully bundled in scarves and coats), they saw a little speck at the edge of the road, coming their way and getting bigger and bigger as it came closer. Soon enough, Frodo and Sam came close enough to realize who the speck was. It was Meriadoc Brandybuck (who was generally called Merry), Frodo's ten-year-old second cousin. In Merry's arms was a sleeping two-year-old Peregrin Took, who everyone called 'Pippin' on account of the way he mispronounced his name in his attempt at forming words, though he could now say full sentences.

'Hullo, Merry.' Frodo greeted at a whisper, minding Pippin's sleeping state.

'Hullo, Frodo, Samwise.' Merry replied, nodding politely to Sam.

'So,' Frodo said, picking up a clump of snow and patting it into a rather large ball, then throwing it over a nearby fence. 'What brings you to Hobbiton, Merry? And where's your mum?'

'Well, lil' Pip here's old enough to be around people, so 'is mum an' da decided to bring him over to your house to see your uncle an' you. Mumma brought me down here to visit a friend of her's, and Pip an' me just happened to meet up. Me and the little dibbun got quite attached.' Merry proclaimed, looking down and smiling at his cousin. Pippin suddenly opened his big, green eyes and his mouth cracked open to let out a tiny peep of a yawn, which made Frodo chuckle softly. Merry smiled again and looked up at Frodo. 'What brings you… to the road?' Merry asked awkwardly.

'Mr. Frodo and me're goin' to the market, Mr. Merry.' Sam blurted out, peeking out from behind Frodo.

'Hm! The market. How exciting.' Merry said dryly, kicking a chunk of what looked like dirt mixed with snow, though it might not have been. Frodo rolled his eyes jocularly. Somehow, Frodo was always a magnet for small children. Perhaps it was the reason that they often stopped him in the market and asked him to tell them one of Bilbo's stories. Perhaps they just liked being around an older child. Who really knows?

'I have to run some errands for Bilbo. He's run out of tea-leaves and he dreadfully needs them, for he's caught a bad cough lately (or so he claims).' Frodo stated knowingly.

'I'm just taggin' along, really.' Sam pipped in, shrugging his shoulders.

'Thank you for that comment, Sam. It was much needed.' Frodo said, tussling Sam's light-brown curls, to which Sam replied with a jovially indignant 'Hey!'. Frodo chortled. 'What say we get a move on, shall we? The sun's beginning to set and I don't want to be late for dinner.' He promptly began walking down the road where he was going in the first place, quickly followed by the gaggle of tots.

When they reached the market, the sky had turned a dark blue hue, and snowflakes were beginning to fall gracefully from their fluffy white perches. The four hobbit-lads walked past the thin crowd of people bustling about in the stands. Pippin stretched his little body sideways as he eagerly reached for a shiny, red apple from one of the stands, but Merry scooted away from it, thus separating the little hobbit from his prize. Pippin began to crumple up his cherubic face and was about to cry when Merry said, 'No, Pip, you can't have that. I know, you're teething and you need something to gum, but you can't have it. It's too late.' Pippin whimpered sadly, and Merry hugged him close, patting him gently on the back. 'I'll sneak you one later, all right?' Merry whispered soothingly, pulling Pippin out again to look him in the eye, giving him a gentle poke in the tummy. Pippin gave a seven-toothed grin and giggled. Frodo suddenly tapped Merry on the shoulder. Merry craned his neck to look at him.

'I'm going to go into that store over there, see?' Frodo said, pointing to a small shop across the street. 'Don't trail off or talk to strangers, all right? Sam's going to look after you, so don't give him any trouble_, all right?'_

'Yes, Mother.' Merry said teasingly, fluttering his long eyelashes like an innocent angel. Frodo nodded and swerved on his heel, walking off to the store he was destined for.

'Oi, Sam! Get over here!' Merry hollered, receiving various stares from adults surrounding him. Merry just grinned proudly.

Sam, who was casually plucking weeds from the sides of houses, heard Merry's call and came loping towards him. 'Yes, Mr. Merry?'

'Frodo wants you to look after us. Be nice to me, or I'll tell my dad an' he'll give you what for!' Merry warned, giving Sam the evil eye.

'Yes, Mr. Merry, whatever you say.' Sam laughed, a bit amused at being threatened by a younger hobbit, no matter if the hobbit was just a year younger than him. Merry nodded stiffly, letting out an arrogant 'Hm!'.

After a few minutes of silence, Merry let out a sigh. 'Pippin, you're getting a little heavy, chum.' Merry stated, setting Pippin down on the ground with slight strain. 'Stay with me, Pip.' Merry ordered softly, taking Pippin's chubby little hand. Pippin wiggled free and hugged Merry's leg tightly, shivering with the light snowfall that was descending upon his head. Merry took off his huge green scarf and draped it around Pippin's tiny shoulders, which instantly caused the lad to stop shivering. 'You good, mate?' Pippin nodded, curls bobbing as he went.

'Where's Fwodo?' Pippin queried worriedly (for a babe, that is).

'He went into a store, don't worry, Pip.' Merry cooed, brushing back the little one's scraggly bangs with his hand.

'Hey, didya hear? Mr. Bilbo's teachin' Mr. Frodo how to dance.' Sam interrupted, causing Merry to twitch a little.

'I _swear,_ Sam, your comments are so random…' Merry mumbled, staring at Sam through a lowered brow. In an instant, he changed moods and his voice warped to a boisterous holler. 'Anyways, where did you hear this?'

'From me ol' Gaffer, o' course. He was speakin' to Mr. Bilbo this mornin' and Bilbo told him that he was going to teach Mr. Frodo how to dance.'

'Bilbo? Teach Frodo to dance? O, that's rich! I gotta tell that one to my pal, Dinadoc!' Merry exclaimed, laughing cruelly.

'What's 'rich'? Did I miss something?' A voice said, startling the little hobbits. Merry turned to see Frodo standing there, a bag of tea-leaves in his hand.

'Nothin'. Ye missed nothin'.' Merry said angelically (if not a little hastily), picking up Pippin from the ground, smiling sweetly. Frodo just cocked a brow.

'…Come, we mustn't dally. It isn't safe being out so late.' Frodo said, quickly ushering the little tots towards the mouth of the market.

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Yeah, I know the ending to the chapter sucked, but I tried. Tellest me whast thou thinketh. 


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Dances With Uncles  
AUTHOR: Tinuviel's Song

Disclaimer: I don't own Frodo, Bilbo, The Springle-Ring, yada, yada, moving along, people.  
SUMMARY: Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…  
RATING: G  
CHARACTERS: Bilbo, Frodo  
SPOILERS: Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…  
NOTES: This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

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**Chap. 3: Let The Music Take Control **

After Frodo had walked Merry and Sam home to their smíals, he stepped up to Bag End. Frodo saw smoke coming from the chimney. _'O, that's right. Pippin's family is here. Bilbo must be entertaining them. I hope he isn't telling them the tale of how I got motion sickness and vomited on him during that one carriage ride last year,'_ Frodo prayed. He opened the little white gate out front, padded up the front steps, and was about to reach for the doorknob when he suddenly heard mirthful laughter coming from within.

'Mama!' Pippin cried happily, beginning to bounce his wee bum excitedly in Frodo's arms.

'Shh…' Frodo hushed, pressing a finger to his lips. Pippin sucked in his lips, though they were still stuck in an over-euphoric smile. Frodo pressed his ear to the thick door to hear the conversation that was buzzing inside.

* * *

'So (heh heh), so I told him-… I told him- (heh heh heh) I told Herilac this: 'Sure, I'll give you the pumpkin, but first get out of my manure pile!'' Paladin Took howled, followed by a tumult of unruly laughter from Bilbo and Paladin's wife (and Pippin's mother), Eglantine.

'Speaking of little anecdotes, I told Frodo-lad today that I'd teach him to dance. He almost had a heart attack when I told him, but I think he'll learn to welcome it, eventually… I hope…' Bilbo said hopelessly, taking on a poignant expression.

'Poor dear, ever since he came here from Griffo Boffin's place, almost four years ago, he's been as sad as a mule without feed. I hope the poor love works up the courage enough to dance with somebody this year. He always seems so lonely.' Eglantine said empathetically, receiving a small pat on the hand from her husband, who was sitting in the chair next to her.

* * *

Frodo absentmindedly opened the door with a prolonged creak, drawing everyone's attention to the door. 'Mummy!' Pippin cried jubilantly, jumping from a rather stupefied Frodo's arms and scurrying over into his mother's lap. Frodo came in quietly and shut the round green door behind him. The iniquitous door betrayed him with a loud 'shwump' as it closed. 

'Frodo! We were just talking about you, dear.' Eglantine said with a loving smile, her pea-green eyes twinkling with compassion as Frodo emerged from the dark vestibule, unbuttoning his coat.

'Were you, now?' Frodo said, taking off his brown overcoat and deep red scarf, hanging them snugly on the coat tree. 'What an honor to be a part of your conversation.' Frodo complimented, giving Bilbo a silent glare, though Eglantine saw it quite clearly.

'What were you doing out so late? I merely sent you out to get tea leaves, m'lad.' Bilbo inquired, looking up at Frodo through his eyebrows.

'I was delayed. Duldo Armstrong's store has been quite busy lately, what with all the hurly-burly of Yule around, and there was a heavy snow storm going on outside.' Frodo explained, shaking his dark brown tresses of the white stuff and warming his hands by the fireplace for a moment. 'Here, Uncle,' Frodo suddenly said, reaching deep into his ice-encrusted pockets and pulling out the bag of tea leaves, tossing it to Bilbo. 'That's all they had left. We'll have to look for more in the morning. In the meantime, I must be off to bed.' Frodo said, stretching his limbs with a short grunt.

'But it's only just turned eight-thirty.' Paladin indicated, tapping the mouth of his slender wooden pipe on his chin.

'And there's company, Frodo. Be polite, will you, and sit down?' Bilbo said, gesturing towards the small guest's chair beside his.

'And dinner's to be served, soon. Aren't you hungry?' Paladin asked. Frodo could smell a ham baking as well as green beans and potatoes boiling in the kitchen. He wasn't too hungry, though, so he decided to pass.

'No, thank you,' Frodo said, receiving shocked stares from the adults. 'I've had rather of a long day, Uncle. I'm _completely_ worn-out. If I stay up any longer, I fear my eyes may roll out of their sockets and into the fire.' Frodo declared, stifling a deep yawn.

'It's all right, Bilbo. He can go to bed if he wants. He does look rather beat.' Eglantine observed, rocking a sleeping Pippin in her arms.

'Well, all right, then. Off you go, lad.' Bilbo said, waving Frodo away with a friendly smile.

'G'night, Frodo.' Said Paladin behind his pipe.

'Sleep soundly.' Eglantine well-wished, smiling again. Frodo nodded curtly.

'I will, thank you.' Frodo thanked, bowing gentlemanly. He then turned to Bilbo and, wishing him good night, turned to the hall and walked to his chamber.

Shutting the door quickly behind him, he picked up his nightshirt and trousers off the floor and changed into them, contemplating on the day as he went.

_"I _still_ can't believe that Bilbo is to teach me to dance. Bilbo! Of all people! O, horror of horrors! My friends will never put this down! I'll forever be known as 'Frodo, the hobbit who danced with his male cousin'. O, Bilbo's so… old… and clumsy… Let's hope that his feet don't crush mine." _

Frodo stopped to chuckle at that. He then hopped into bed, pulling his thick winter covers up to his chest, and grabbing one of Bilbo's old books, a faded sable-colored one set with cracked gold lettering off the floor.

Reading the title: _The Eating Habits of Fungi_, Frodo put on a sickened face, but decided to read a bit anyway. He immediately put the book down beside his bed when he read the gruesome descriptions of fungus growth and how it can eat away at your skin (a hare-brained notion, but it had some half-truth in it).

After saying his nightly prayers, he blew out the candle on the stand beside his bed. He then laid his tired head on his goose-down pillow, closing his eyes in concentration, though he was kept awake by the incessant chatter outside his door. Frodo blocked them out by listening to the sound of his own rustling, cold-infested breathing, as well as the tree branch that was scraping against his window with the strong winter wind.

Suddenly, the young Master Baggins was overcome by a bombardment of booming sneezes, each one louder and more earth-shattering than the last- 'achoo… achoo_, achoo, ACHOOOOO!' _

Hearing many a shouted 'bless you', Frodo sniffled, laid his head back on his pillow, and closed his eyes once more, slowly drifting off into a deep, extraordinary sleep.

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Hoorah for crappy jokes! Those darned Hobbits and their whacked-out senses of humor. (Cheesy smile and laugh- dark-faced-ness) That chapter was pretty much pointless… Yeah… REPLY, PLEASE! 


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Dances With Uncles  
AUTHOR: Tinuviel's Song

Disclaimer: I don't own LotR, nor do I own Frodo, Bilbo, or anything else LotR related- Except for the characters I made up, such as Dinadoc Brandybuck-Grubb, Gypsophila Chubb, Duldo Armstrong, Herilac Took, etc.  
SUMMARY: Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…  
RATING: G  
CHARACTERS: Bilbo, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin  
SPOILERS: Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…  
NOTES: This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

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**Chap. 4: In Sleep He Sang To Me, In Dreams He Came… **

_Frodo found himself walking through a field of many-colored flowers. He took in the sweet smells of roses and petunias, staring in wonder at the beautiful shade of orange-red the sky had taken on, and breathing in the fresh golden air around him. All of a sudden, rotted hands broke through the wet soil, grabbing avariciously at his ankles. Frodo cried out in horror and ran away from the field into a dark wooded area. He thought that he was free of the horrid fiends, when he nearly ran head on into a ghostly figure: His dearly departed mother, Primula. Frodo's face went pale with fright, though he felt overjoyed to see he mother once more. 'Mum!' Frodo whispered, tears coming to his eyes. _

_"Yes, sweetness." Primula said, her grayed face taking on a bright smile. "Frodo, your cousin only has good intentions for you, and he wants you to be happy, as I do." She said, touching his cheek lightly. _

_"But, I'm perfectly happy the way I am!" Frodo argued. _

_"You're happy with not having a lady by your side? You're happy with sitting in dark corner at parties, having casual conversations with the wallpaper? You're _happy_?" Primula disputed, raising an eyebrow. _

_"Eh… Good point." Frodo agreed, turning his head from his mother, though his eyes were still glued to her dusty presence. _

_"Let Bilbo teach you to dance." Primula advised, turning Frodo's gaze to her's with the heel of her long, white hand and kissing his forehead softly. "You shan't regret it, I promise." She said, giving him a playful tap in the nose with her slender finger, backing away into shadow. _

_"Mum! Mother! Come back!" Frodo called to the wind, receiving no answer. Suddenly, a thick fog overcame him and Frodo gasped… _

* * *

'Gah!' Frodo cried as he shot up in bed, his breathing at seventy miles per hour. The room was filled with the silvery light of morning and a cardinal was screeching outside his window. Frodo groggily got out of bed and stretched his joints. He opened his near-translucent yellowed curtains and was greeted by a blinding flash of white, for the windows were covered in a thick crust of ice and snow. 'It looks like Yavanna has decided to take a little holiday.' Frodo mumbled, squinting tiredly. He pressed both hands to the glass and was hailed by a great bolt of cold, immediately waking him up. 'Lawks, it's freezing!' He cried, shivering loudly and picking up a robe from off of the floor, putting it on and walking out his door to the hallway. 

Halfway down the hall, Frodo caught the whiff of bacon and eggs cooking in the kitchen. Walking curiously to the kitchen, he saw Bilbo standing at the table with two big plates of bacon, eggs, some sort of potato dish, and sausage, as well as a rather large basket of rolls, placing them on either side of the table. Frodo walked up to him and Bilbo looked up at him to give a smile.

'Good morning, m'lad.' Bilbo said, his voice full of warm sunshine.

'Good morning, Uncle. What's all this? No one else is even up yet.' Bilbo nodded and stuck a finger in the air.

'Exactly! That means more time to eat and a faster start on the day, so start eating!' Bilbo exclaimed, scooting Frodo's plate nearer to the lad. Frodo sat down quietly and poked at it carefully, as if it would jump off the plate and eat him instead. 'Er… Would you like some milk… or something?' Bilbo asked, not expecting the outcome of his offering. Frodo nodded, his ethereal blue eyes drooping with exhaustion. Bilbo laughed to himself over some unknown thing and went to fetch the milk tin. As Frodo sat alone, he listened intently to the sound of birds chirping outside and children screaming with glee as they played blissfully in the snow. Above all this, he could hear Bilbo bumbling about clumsily in the cellar, and Frodo began to dread his upcoming session even more than before. Bilbo came up the stairs, huffing and puffing as he heaved the heavy milk tin up the stone steps.

'Do you need help?' Frodo asked indifferently, poking boredly at his sausage with the tip of a fingernail.

'No, m'lad, I've got it.' Bilbo insisted through gritted teeth, setting down the milk tin, the bottom hitting the floor so hard that it made a loud "THWUMMMM", shaking the floor so that the plates shook on the table. Frodo slapped a hand on his plate to keep it still. 'There we are. Drink up.' Bilbo persuaded wheezily, plopping down wearily in his chair and moaning uncomfortably. 'Ooh… I'm not as young as I used to be, lad. No more trudging through mountains and such, I suppose.' Bilbo proclaimed, rubbing his back and arching it with a grotesque crack. Frodo simply sat staring at his food. 'You'd best eat your food, now. It's probably getting cold. And good heavens, stop poking at it, it isn't going to jump off of your plate and eat you!' He cried, laughing softly.

'Mrmf.' Frodo mumbled, rubbing an eye tiredly with the heel of his hand and reaching blindly for the nearest fork, shoveling it into his food.

As Bilbo ladled the thin milk into a glass, he decided to fill up the silence, as well. 'So… How are your lessons going?'

'Well, you teach me half of the things that I know, so how do you _think_ I'm doing?' Frodo asked a bit too snippily. Bilbo sighed sadly, looking at the table.

'You're doing fine.' Bilbo said in a hushed tone, cutting into his slice of bacon like a lumberjack to wood. Frodo quickly felt guilty and he decided to start over again.

'So… When exactly _are_ you going to teach me to dance?' Frodo asked, reaching over to the bread basket and taking a round, brown roll from it.

'As soon as you're done eating.' Bilbo said tersely, taking a bite of poached egg from his fork. Frodo nodded and ate the rest of his roll quietly, finishing it off and moving on to two slices of bacon and half an egg. After guzzling down the remains of his milk, Frodo sat there, chewing patiently on his sausage link, waiting for his much older cousin to finish eating his food, which took longer than Frodo expected (then again, Frodo almost half expected it, considering that Bilbo always chewed very slowly so that his 'old jaw' didn't 'dislocate' itself as he was eating). Letting out a sharp breath, Bilbo turned his head toward Frodo. 'Are you ready?'

'Well, I'd like to dress first, if that's all right.' Frodo said at top speed.

'Hm… Well, all right, but don't dawdle!' Bilbo warned as Frodo tore out of the room. 'Bless my soul! Youth these days! Back in my day they asked to be excused from the table before they left it! You would think that he was trying to get away from me.' Bilbo said ironically, walking to pick up the milk tin once more, trudging it down the stairs, coming back up empty-handed and waiting for Frodo in the living room.

Frodo soon came out in virtually the same thing he'd worn the previous day, save fresh underwear and a subtle green overcoat, plus his curly mat of hair was now neatly brushed. 'I'm ready, I guess…' Frodo shrugged, throwing himself in a velvety scarlet-colored chair.

'Well, what in Middle-Earth are you doing, sitting? Tut-tut-tut! Up you go, we must get to work immediately!' Bilbo rushed, tipping Frodo's chair over and letting the lad fall to the floor. As Frodo made good friends with the tan-colored rug, he wondered if he'd be as mad as Bilbo one day.

'All right, All right, I'm up! There's no use in breaking my nose on the floor!' Frodo yelled obnoxiously, getting up on his feet and giving his nose a little squeeze to see if anything was out of place.

'No time to shilly-shally! Come with me.' Bilbo directed, beckoning Frodo to follow him to the biggest, most spacious room in the house: the cellar. It was a cold, dark place, and Bilbo carried two lit candles with him as the two hobbits ventured down the stairs. After they reached the bottom, Bilbo searching about the room for the window. Frodo felt something slick and furry slide across his foot. Hoping it was just the barn cat, Daisy, he gulped and concentrated on focusing his eyesight.

Finding what he was looking for, Bilbo quickly opened the opaque, dark purple curtains surrounding the little foggy window on the wall, letting in an inadequate amount of light. Bilbo blew out his candles and said, 'Now, you may think that this is a strange place to hop about in, considering that it is so dark and dank. But you are forgetting the finer points. As I hum a tune, the noise is carried louder, thus, you catch the tune faster.' Bilbo demonstrated by humming a string of notes, which were carried off in a spacey echo. Frodo found this vaguely fascinating.

'Uh-huh…' Frodo palled, looking uneasily at the cobwebs on the walls, wondering if the spiders were still around. It then occurred to him that they would have migrated upstairs to somewhere warmer and that made him even uneasier.

'…Anyways, let's get moving, shall we?' Bilbo sighed. 'This is called The Farrow-Barrow (nice name, eh?). It's a fairly simple dance, so you might catch on quickly. Now, hold my right hand and put your right arm around my waist.' Frodo blinked skeptically. 'O, come now, just do it, please?' Bilbo begged desperately. Slowly and rigidly, Frodo did what Bilbo told him. 'There's a lad! Now, follow my lead. One, two, three. One, two, three…' Bilbo chanted, beginning to take Frodo in a slow, sideways circle, a bit like a modern-day polka. After a few awkward steps, the pair began to loosen up to each other and Frodo eventually learned the steps in no time flat… about two and a half hours, actually.

After they had both become quite sick of the fast-moving dance, Bilbo moved on to numerous other dances: The Apple Juggler, The Beer-Jug Jig, The Plow-Puller, and various other minor Hobbit dances.

Each day Frodo went with Bilbo to the cold cellar, the more he learned. And each day, Frodo became better at it… 'Til along came the Springle-Ring…

* * *

Well, that was quite a long chapter… Didya like it nonetheless? Ya see that little purplish button down there to your far right? Well, ya see, us writers need fuel to keep our fics alive, so press that button and review, give constructive criticism, so I can write again and liiiiiiive! 


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: Dances With Uncles  
AUTHOR: Tinuviel's Song

Disclaimer: I don't own Frodo, Bilbo, The Springle-Ring, or any other Hobbit thing- They belong to the late JRR Tolkien. Rest in peace, Sir!  
SUMMARY: Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…  
RATING: G  
CHARACTERS: Bilbo, Frodo  
SPOILERS: Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…  
NOTES: This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

* * *

**Chapter 5: She's A Maniac On The Floor **

On the 28th of Foreyule, Frodo awoke bright and early to the sound of Bilbo shouting in the air. Startled by it, Frodo sprang from his bed and threw on his robe, running down the hall to the sitting room. '…And don't let me catch you snaking about here again, or I'll have your heads hanging above my mantle, make no mistake!' Bilbo hollered, shaking a fist and slamming the door. Frodo approached him with a yawn, which made the Ex-Burglar jump. Turning around quickly, he sighed with relief when he saw that it was only Frodo. 'O, hello, lad! Did I wake you?' Bilbo asked, laughing a little.

'No, no, you didn't.' Frodo lied, though Bilbo seemed to believe him. 'Who was that, or should I _really _be asking?' Frodo said, rolling his eyes. He was quite sure of whom it was.

'Those meddlesome Sackville-Bagginses!' _Bingo._ 'I rue the day that they were named our relatives!' Bilbo proclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

'O, you really mustn't say that. After all, Otho's father was your uncle. He is our cousin, so we may as well live with it.' Frodo said, almost self-reassuringly. 'There's no getting rid of family, after all.'

'I think we have a future wisehobbit on our hands, Bilbo.' Eglantine said, walking from the passageway she was in to where Frodo was standing, kissing him on the forehead. Paladin followed her a few steps back.

'How's that cold of yours, Frodo? Any better?' Paladin asked with a yawn.

'A little.' Frodo said, sniffling.

Bilbo set his bluish-gray eyes thoughtfully on Eglantine, 'hmm'-ing. Paladin saw Bilbo staring and asked half-charily, 'Whatcha lookin' at her like that for?'

'O, terribly sorry, I was just thinking that, well, Frodo needs to get used to dancing with a girl, so…'

Eglantine giggled. 'So you want him to dance with me, eh?' Bilbo nodded.

_"So_ that's _why he invited them over. It was all part of his evil plan! Sly fox…"_

'Well, that's all fine and good. When shall we start?' Eglantine asked, clapping her hands together.

'I was thinking maybe today, but whenever you're ready.'

'I'm ready now!' Eglantine exclaimed enthusiastically.

'Is that all right with you, m'lad?'

"Now _you're asking me about my feelings? What a change of heart, Bilbo, old boy!" _Frodo thought sarcastically, though his lips said, 'Yes.'

'Good, good. How about you, Paladin?'

'Why not?' He said, his eyes still filled to the brim with unneeded distrust.

'Good. We start after lunch. Today we learn the Springle-Ring!' Bilbo cried.

The adults left Frodo alone as they walked outside to the garden, discussing this and that. Suddenly abandoned, Frodo wandered quietly around the smíal, searching for the guest rooms. Even after almost five years of living with Bilbo, he still couldn't find his way around the place. Finally, he found the one where the Tooks were residing. Frodo opened the door quietly, for inside, there was a sleeping Peregrin. Frodo tiptoed up to the crib and peeped inside. Pippin was lying on his belly and his soft breath blew at his bangs as he exhaled. Frodo noticed that one of his wee socks was halfway off of his foot and his blanket had been pushed aside by his restless feet as he slept.

Frodo adjusted the blanket and closed the drapes on the north side of the room. He then pulled out a small stuffed animal that was shoved in his jacket pocket and whispered, 'This is Fleecy, my sheep. I've had him since I was five. You can have him, I don't need him anymore.' He then laid the sheep next to Pippin's sleeping form. 'You know, after my parents… went away, I was afraid to do a lot of things, since my parents were always there to help me with them. Now I have to learn how to dance and they aren't there to see it. Bilbo's all I have, but he's not exactly silk in the wind, if you know what I mean. I guess he's better than most, though. At least I don't have to dance with your granny, Lalia, huh?' Frodo joked, laughing softly. He then took a long pause, sighing. 'I guess I'll have to get used to a lot of things, and Bilbo is one of them. He's our relative, like it or not. There's no getting rid of family.' Frodo told himself, laughing again. He then looked down at Pippin again, stroking his hair once more before saying, 'It's been nice talking to you. You've been a real help.' And with that, Frodo tiptoed back out the door, shutting it quietly behind him and walking to the garden to join his family.

* * *

After an extensive lunch of all sorts and a short play-meet with Sam and Merry, Frodo met Eglantine and Bilbo once more in the cellar (Paladin had gone home to Tookland for some unknown reason, and Pippin was upstairs napping still).

'Brr! It's a bit nippy down here, Bilbo! Are you sure you don't store ice down here instead of ale?' Eglantine exclaimed, pulling her shawl tight around her.

'I do when it's very hot outside- but that's not the point!' Bilbo proclaimed.

'Then what _is_ the point?' Eglantine grinned.

'The point is… Meh… Let's get dancing, shall we?' Bilbo said, renouncing.

'Hang on a moment…' Eglantine said, reaching up and tightening the thick blue ribbon that was tying her light-red hair in a bun. 'I'm ready.' She squeaked.

'All right, then…' Bilbo sighed exasperatedly, running his hand over his face. 'This is the Springle-Ring, _got it?'_ He asked as if he would explode at any moment. Eglantine and Frodo stifled giggles. Frodo nodded. Eglantine did the same. 'Righto. Now, Frodo, hum us a tune.' Bilbo coaxed.

'All right. Uh… Fast or slow?' Bilbo gave him a threatening glare. 'All right, then…' Frodo began humming a muddled set of notes, first, but then forming a smooth, speedy tune.

'Good… First you spin and then you lean, go down on every beat, then spin again. You can do this as you go, Frodo, though it's purely voluntary.' Bilbo said, demonstrating by bringing his thumbs under his suspenders and waving his bent arms in imitation of a bird as he hopped about in a strange manner, wagging his legs left and right, which caused the spectators to chuckle. He then stopped, both his feet slapping on the cobblestone as he came to a halt. 'Now you try, Frodo.'

Frodo slowly began to dance, thinking very hard on all of the steps Bilbo had said as he danced, missing a few steps. 'Er… Like that?'

'Uh… No. Here,' Bilbo went over it once more. Frodo tried it, but as he was spinning the second time, his feet got caught and he fell on his bottom.

'Oi! A fine lily-footed dancer I'll be! I don't think I can do this, Bilbo. Not unless by some miracle my feet shrink three sizes by daybreak tomorrow.'

'Twaddle! You'll get it, you just have to _try!' _

'But, U-'

'Frodo, I know you can do it. Please try. Please?' Eglantine begged.

Frodo grunted. 'All right, All right! What are the steps again, Bilbo?'

Bilbo went over the steps _three_ times over, and Frodo got it nearly perfect the forth time around, though he was still a bit clumsy. Bilbo gave up by then, though. 'Splendid. You need work on your timing, but otherwise, you're good as gold.'

'Good, then we're done?' Frodo said hastily, beginning to walk away, but Bilbo placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

'Not quite. Eglantine still needs to do her steps. Do you know how, Lanty?'

'Of course.' Eglantine said, giving a twirl, causing her frilly blue skirts to billow. 'I'm the best dancer in the whole of Tookland.' She boasted.

'All right, then show us.' Bilbo wheedled.

'I'm glad you asked.' She whirled around the two Hobbits in a continuous, dizzying, loopy circle, clapping her raised hands at suitable moments, then kicking her slender feet about in a circular, jig-like motion, moving so fast that her legs seemed like a blur beneath her. She then grabbed the two gentlehobbits by the hands, taking them in a flitty ring around the cellar. After a few more hours of going over the steps for the heck of it, they finally came to a stop.

'Well, that was rather fun.' Bilbo said, smiling like a fool.

'Without a doubt.' Eglantine agreed.

'I concur.' Frodo said, raising an imaginary glass, drunk with laughter.

'I'll be glad to see you dance with someone at the Yule Festival, Frodo.' Eglantine said, giving him a shake on the shoulder.

'So will I.' said Bilbo. 'Have any idea who it's gonna be, Frodo? Eh? Eh?' He pressed, elbowing Frodo on the arm and winking.

'I… Have no idea.' He said, blushing redder than a sun-beat radish.

'O-_ho!'_ Eglantine said in insight, cocking a brow indicatively. Frodo's whole body was scarlet, now. 'Well, don't tell me yet. I want to be surprised. Plus, I don't want you to be too shy to dance.'

'Hehe…' Frodo said nervously, kicking at the dust on the floor. Suddenly, all three heads turned to the ceiling as they heard a child cry.

'O, it looks like a Mr. Grumpy-Breeches just woke up from his nap!' Eglantine cooed in a sickeningly sweet way, quickly twittering up the stairs in a flash of blue, leaving Bilbo and Frodo alone in the cellar.

'So…' Said Bilbo.

'So……… Brunch?' Returned Frodo.

'Precisely what I was thinking.' Bilbo said, patting Frodo on the back and leading him up the stairs and into the light of the world.

* * *

The ending… Make it stop… twitch, twitch Anyway, didya like de chappy, mi amiga? It was muy bueno, no? Si! I'm gonna stop talking like Charo, now before I start wearing a big fake blonde wig and pink sequined spandex. 


	6. Chapter 6

**TITLE:** Dances With Uncles  
**AUTHOR:** Tinuviel's Song

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Springle-Ring, Frodo, Bilbo, Eglantine, Paladin, Pippin, Merry, Sam, or Hamfast- But I do own their clones! Mwahaha, the power!

**SUMMARY:** Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…  
**RATING:** G  
**CHARACTERS:** Bilbo, Frodo  
**SPOILERS:** Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…  
**NOTES: **This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

* * *

**Chapter 6: Black Is The Colour Of My True Love's Hair **

On Foreyule the 29th, and 6:00 AM, precisely, Frodo left his home to go on his daily trip to the market. He padded down the front steps, and was about to walk to the front gate, when a hand grabbed his leg from the bushes. Frodo cried out and fell backwards into the bushes on the other side of the steps. He stayed there, expecting some crazed hobbit to jump out from the bushes. Instead, the old head of Hamfast, Bilbo's gardener and Sam's father, popped up from them. Frodo sighed, relieved that it was only him. 'O, hello, Hamfast.' Frodo breathed, his heart about to burst from his chest. Hamfast laughed a cheerful belly-laugh.

'Heh, sorry I frighted ye, there, Frodo. Hope I didn't traumatize you, lad.' Hamfast apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

'No…' Frodo assured, still a little breathless. 'What are you doing, going about and grabbing people from bushes?'

'Well, I _am _the gardener, son. That's why I was in the bush,' Hamfast explained, opening and closing his sheers. 'Anyways, I saw you a-comin' out o' the house and I wanted to give you somethin' before you went on yer daily walk, since I figured you hadn't eaten yet.' Hamfast said, reaching into his burlap sack and pulling two fat, red apples from the grain inside, putting them on the porch so Frodo could reach for them. 'They're the last of the harvest.' He said, nodding as if he were reassuring himself.

'Thank you.' Frodo said, reaching over and taking the apples, stuffing them in his pockets. He indeed had not eaten breakfast, though he wasn't very hungry, but he thought it kind of the gardener to think of him.

'Any time.' Hamfast said, smiling and returning to his hedge clipping.

Frodo nodded with a smile, wrapping his scarf round and round his neck as the cold catching up with him. 'Farewell, Ham. I'll see you later, I'm hoping." Frodo said, getting out of the bush and walking out into the yard, then the road, walking away towards his inevitable destination.

Little by little, the barren roadside began to fill with generous-sized smíals. Frodo stopped at a rather large smíal with a round red door and black windowpanes: The Chubb residence.

Frodo drew in a breath. This was where Gypsophila Chubb lived, along with her father, Hogo, her mother, Calamintha, her sisters, Bergenia, Clivia, and Hepatica, as well as her only brother, the fourteen-year-old, Mimo.

As luck would have it, the door unexpectedly swung open and out stepped Gypsophila, walking towards the gate. She was dressed in a black bodice, a creamy-white chemise, and a scarlet skirt. Wrapped about her shoulders was a small black shawl. She dreamily sang a song to herself as she stepped up to the mailbox, only inches away from Frodo.

Frodo gulped. Using all the strength he could conjure up, he let out a miniscule, 'Hello, Gypsophila.' She looked up and her startling bright green eyes met his blue orb-like ones.

'O… Hello, uh… Frodo, is it?' She asked, tucking behind her ear a strand of abundantly-curled black hair that had escaped from her low ponytail.

'Yes. That's me. Frodo. Fro-o-odo Baggins. Yep.' Frodo said awkwardly, cracking a nervous smile, which made him look like a wounded, rabies-infected deer that was about to be run over by a carriage. He'd spoken to Gypsy before, but they never really got past 'Hello'.

'Uh-huh…' She said, trying desperately not to laugh… and failing miserably.

_"O, _brilliant,_ Frodo, now she thinks you're a joke!" _Frodo thought, slapping his forehead as punishment as colour rose in his cheeks.

'O, begging your pardon. I didn't mean to laugh. It's sort of a bad habit, I suppose.' Gypsophila said, shrugging her shoulders diffidently. She then decided to start over. 'I've heard much about you and your cousin, Bilbo. His story sounds interesting: Going to a large volcanic mountain with a troop of Dwarves and a wizard and facing certain death by the claws of a dragon to get some stolen treasure that belonged to the Dwarves. Well, that's a lot more interesting than my life!' She admitted, shocking Frodo.

'Your father sells… candles in the market, right? I think I've seen you around there some time or another. Candle-making sounds-… interesting!' Frodo worded shyly, but gaining a little more confidence. Gypsophila snorted.

'Bah, dad's job is _boring._ I just tote about there since most of my friends live around the place. I think I saw you in the market a couple of days ago, accompanied by three children. I think it's sweet the way you let them hang around you. That show's that you either love children, or you just didn't notice them.' Gypsy said, her rosy lips curling into a smile. Frodo couldn't help but smile himself.

'Yeah, I like children-I mean, I'm not _crazy _about them, but I enjoy their company and all.' Frodo said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and feeling the apples within. Taking them out, he brushed some lint off of one and inspected it with the precision of a scientist looking for new life.

'Is that an apple?' Gypsophila asked. 'I love apples, and they're so hard to come by this time of year.'

'Well, my uncle's gardener is a master at preservation, so we get to have the harvest fruits for a long time. It's a wondrous thing, really. Would you like one?' Frodo said, holding the other, non-lint-covered one out to her. She quickly took it.

'Thank you.' She said, taking a small, savouring bite. There were high-pitched giggles heard from behind them. Looking to the smíal, Frodo and Gypsy saw all three of Gypsy's sisters standing there.

'Hiya, Frodo!' Bergenia, the lanky, black-haired nineteen-year-old called out mock-dreamily, wiggling her stubby fingers at him in a childish wave.

'How's it goin'?' Hepatica, the overly-fat, coal-eyed twenty-year-old giggled, flashing a big-toothed grinned. Frodo answered with a queer look.

'I've heard he speaks Elvish.' said Clivia, the red-headed eighteen-year-old.

'O, how romantic!' Bergenia sighed, falling backwards into Clivia's arms.

'Say something! Say something in Elvish!' Hepatica demanded excitedly, bouncing up and down (not a particularly pretty sight).

'Girls…' Gypsy scolded, taking her turn to blush. Frodo just rolled his eyes.

_'Mae Govannen, Tûgier. Elen lanta lúmenn' omentielvo._' Frodo quipped in his smoothest voice possible, addressing Hepatica.

'O, that's _so _beautiful!' Bergenia sighed, feigning a swoon and resting her back against the house.

Gypsy sighed and bent down slowly, scooping up a handful of small stones from the ground as she put her apple in her apron pocket. Suddenly, to Frodo's (and the sisters Chubb's) surprise, Gypsy began to chuck the rocks at her sisters like a catapult, one rock after the other, one sister at a time. The girls screeched and ran into the house the house. Gypsophila calmly wiped her hands on her apron, turning around to face Frodo.

'Could you get the mail out of our mailbox, please?' She sighed breathlessly, smoothing her hair.

Frodo nodded perplexedly. 'Certainly.' Frodo said, walking nonchalantly over to the barrel-shaped mailbox and taking out five letters. Gypsophila quickly took them from him. 'Are all those for you?'

'Mm-hm.' Gypsophila said, flipping through the different envelopes, each one getting a look of disapproval, one even received a antagonistic "O, _him _again!".

Suddenly, the two conversers were disrupted when the red door of the smíal smacked open and out stepped Gypsy's mother, in all her red-faced, wide-bodied glory. A weeping Clivia accompanied her.

'O. I think I'm in trouble.' Gypsy droned apathetically.

_'Gypsophila Chubb!_ You get you hindquarters in here THIS INSTANT!' Calamintha Chubb bellowed with a hard stamp of her foot, eyes nearly popping from her head.

'Well, that's my cue. I've got to go- See you at the Yule Festival, I hope- Thanks for the apple- Ta!' Gypsophila rushed, running quickly to her smíal. Mrs. Chubb gave Frodo a poisonous glare before slamming the door shut again, the windows of the smíal shaking with the force.

Slightly confused, but quite pleased with the way things went with Gypsy, Frodo went skipping (yes, skipping) down the road, singing as he went. _'I hope she's at the Yule Festival tomorrow. I'm feeling like the happiest hobbit alive!'_ Frodo thought gleefully, giving a jump and a click of his heels.

* * *

Aw, Frodo's in looooooooooooooooove! Too bad it won't last long- (**gasp, BUM-BUMMMM, thunder, lightning**)

_PS: Mae Govannen, Tûgier. Elen lanta lúmenn' omentielvo _translates to"Well met, Fat One. A star falls on our meeting." Get it?


	7. Chapter 7: THE LAST CHAPTER!

**TITLE:** Dances With Uncles  
**AUTHOR:** Tinuviel's Song

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Springle-Ring, Frodo, Bilbo, Eglantine, Paladin, Pippin, Merry, Sam, or Hamfast- But I do own their clones! Mwahaha, the powah! >:D

**SUMMARY:** Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…  
**RATING:** G  
**CHARACTERS:** Bilbo, Frodo  
**SPOILERS:** Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…  
**NOTES: **This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

* * *

**Chapter 7: I Could've Danced All Night **

On the morning of the 30th of Foreyule, Frodo awoke bright and "early", getting out of bed humming a mangled jingle and dancing about his room (in improv. style, of course). Frodo was looking forward to this day. He happily dressed in his finest, fixing himself up nicely. He then bopped out of his room, whistling a happy tune. He found all of his family, even little Pippin, sitting in the kitchen.

'Good morning, sleepy-head. You slept through nearly half the day already.' Eglantine said, grinning as she attempted to feed Pippin some boiled carrots. Bilbo was toying around with his pocket watch. Frodo sat down in a chair near Bilbo and flicked at the doily across from him, 'la-dee-dum'-ing a song half-familiar to him.

'You clean up well, lad.' Bilbo complimented, giving a slight tug on Frodo's red overcoat. Frodo did not hear him, though. 'Lad? Hello? Frodo!' Bilbo said, waving a hand in front of his face.

'Huh?' Frodo said subconsciously, snapping back to reality.

'Ah… Never mind.' Bilbo said, finally getting it.

'You ready for Yule today, Frodo?' Eglantine asked, wiping Pippin's carrot-soiled face off with her hankie, then her own.

'Yes.' Frodo said immediately. Eglantine grinned.

'Good.' Eglantine was already dressed for Yule, as well. She had on the same blue dress that she'd worn when she and Bilbo taught Frodo the Springle-Ring.

'Drat!' Bilbo exclaimed suddenly. 'This watch is falling apart! I'll have to take it to the clock maker tomorrow.'

'O, tomorrow…' Eglantine whined. 'Tomorrow's the day Pippin and I leave! I don't want to go.'

'You're always welcome here, dearie.' Bilbo said, rubbing Eglantine's shoulder sympathetically.

'You and Pippin, and Paladin.' Agreed Frodo.

'Thank you.' Eglantine said, lifting Pippin from his highchair. Pippin reached out from his mother's grasp and tried to grab hold of Frodo's hair. Frodo laughed softly, gently plucking Pippin's fingers from deep within his curls. He had anything and everything good on his mind. He couldn't get his mind off of what would be coming up later that day. A goofy smile was stuck on his face and he swung his feet happily under the table as he buttered a roll, humming another song. 'Well, someone's happy today!' Bilbo beamed.

'O, I'm just excited about today.' Frodo said giddily.

'I would be, too. This is the first time you'll be dancing in public- er, uh, no pressure, of course.' Bilbo said, laughing out of impulse.

'No… No pressure…' Frodo said, suddenly not feeling so sure about that. He quickly pulled himself out of it, though. 'Bring out the bread and jam, and tea, please! I'm famished!'

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

19:00, Zulu…

Bag End, The Hill, Hobbiton, Middle-Earth… (just kidding ;;)

'Frodo! What are you doing in there! We must be off soon!' Bilbo yelled across the hall as he buttoned a stray button on his shirt.

'I'm wrapping a present for someone!' Frodo screamed back. He heard a muffled response from Bilbo, but brushed it off. Frodo was wrapping a gift for Gypsy, something that he had gotten at Duldo Armstrong's the same day he'd gotten the tea-leaves. He put his present in a relatively fit old little box and wrapped it in brown paper and twine, writing in ink in the far left corner:

_To: Gypsophila Chubb_

_From: Frodo Baggins, friend _

Making sure the twine was securely tied, Frodo picked up his package and joined his family in the living room.

'Are you ready, lad?'

'Yes.' Frodo answered simply. On the outside, he tried to act as calm about it as possible. On the inside, he was filled with a wide array of emotions: Happiness because he might see Gypsy at the dance, anxiety because he _might_ see Gypsophila at the dance, and fear of messing up and embarrassing himself. Of all the vast emotions swimming about in him, the latter one was the most prominent.

'Well, all right, we're off!' Cried Bilbo, taking his walking stick from the cane rack, walking out the door and into the dark of winter's night. Eglantine, Frodo, and Pippin (who was holding Frodo's hand) soon followed him. In time, the trio of hobbits reached the Party Tree, where many other hobbits were standing.

Frodo suddenly felt a little uneasy about dancing around all these people. 'Loosen up a bit, dear. It's just a little party. Hey, some people dance even though they _can't_ dance.' Eglantine assured.

'Then why even teach me?' Frodo argued. Eglantine simply mussed his hair with her hand.

'You'll do fine.' She whispered in his ear as she walked away, beckoning Pippin to come along with her.

Frodo stood there, suddenly left alone as a bone-chilling wind picked up. Frodo began to rock back and forth on his heels, looking over and over again at the archway, watching for any sight of Gypsophila. After less than twenty minutes of waiting (it seemed like three hours to Frodo), he finally heard a familiar voice say, 'O, Frodo, there you are!' Frodo turned around to see Gypsy standing there, clad all in green and black, a wax daisy tucked in her bun.

'Hullo, Gypsophila.' Frodo said, smiling. 'I was worried you wouldn't come.'

'I almost didn't. My parents grounded me and locked me in my room. But I managed to unlock my window and get out. Mother will be furious, but I don't care. I wanted to speak with you for one last time.'

_'One last time?' _Frodo thought, brushing it off to ask, 'Would you like to dance, Gypsophila?'

'Yes, I would. But only for a bit, I hurt my ankle a little trying to jump from my window, so I can't walk around on it for too long.'

And so, Frodo danced with Gypsy for an hour. And for an hour, he didn't even think about what he was dancing. The steps just came to him, and he and Gypsophila both had a jolly good time with it. But soon, Gypsy's ankle began to act up, and she and Frodo stopped to sit down in two chairs.

'Gypsy, I'd like to tell you something.' Frodo said slowly.

'Yeeeeeeeeesss?' Gypsophila drew out, leaning forward. Frodo gulped.

'Over the years, I thought I just had a schoolboyish crush on you. But now, after yesterday's talk, I realized something. I… I love you.' Frodo said in an out-of-character way, eyes wide and colour rising to his cheeks.

'O…' Gypsophila said sadly, though a glad light shone in her eyes. Frodo became worried. Had he said the wrong thing, too soon? 'I have something to say now.' Gypsophila said in a hushed tone, her eyes imitating a sea of emotion. 'I'm to be married.' She said hesitantly, as if she expected to spontaneously combust if she said anything. Frodo just sat there, staring blankly, not even blinking once. 'Frodo?' Gypsy asked, her voice almost tearful.

'Married?' Frodo whispered, though Frodo heard it loud and clear.

'Yes. In May. To a Brandybuck heir, though I do not know his first name. Something with a D or an F.' Gypsophila whispered in return, her eyes gleaming with the moonlight, and perhaps something else.

'But aren't you a little young to marry?'

'Twenty-three,' She said, stopping to chuckle with detest. 'That's old enough for my mother's side of the family, the Tooks.' Frodo didn't really know what to say, so Gypsophila spoke for him. 'I leave in April. I don't want to go, but I really have no choice. I'll miss Hobbiton,' She said, sighing. Then, she bent over and kissed Frodo smack on the lips. 'And I'll miss you most of all.' She said, tears in her eyes. She then began to get up, but Frodo stopped her.

'I have something I want to give you.' He said, handing her the package. She took it slowly and unwrapped it as neatly as she could. She then took the lid off the box and shuffled around in the yellowed tissue paper until she found her gift. She smiled at what she found. Inside was a necklace: a silver one, with a matching oval-shaped charm, a red stone set in the middle of it.

'It's very pretty. I love it! Thank you, Frodo!' She said, hugging Frodo, and then pulling away to take out the necklace and put it on. 'I'll wear this for the rest of my life and remember you when I wear it… I really am sorry. You're so sweet, and I wish I could stay here and be with you, but I can't.' Gypsophila then sighed sadly, and after a long pause, she got up again and said, 'Goodbye, Frodo. I'll see you again, I hope. Happy Yule!' She then walked away from him and into the crowd of people schmoozing around him.

Frodo was boiled over with anger and frustration. He hurried away from the party of people, not minding the knee-high snow that was covering the ground. As he was walking, he just exploded, kicking the snow around and leaving large bald spots where the crystalloid water had been.

_'It isn't fair!'_ Frodo thought/screamed, sitting in the snow, now exhausted. His first love, who he'd had a crush on since he was _twenty-one,_ was gone out of reach forever. It just wasn't fair!

Depressed and on the verge of tears, Frodo got up and walked over to where Bilbo was talking with Hamfast. When Bilbo saw the tears in Frodo's eyes, he excused himself and walked away with the lad under his arm. "What's the matter, lad? Is something ailing you?"

"Only love, Uncle."

"Love, Frodo? Why is love the matter? Did something happen with Miss Gypsophila?"

"Yes, Uncle. And now she's gone forever." Frodo said, sniffling. He was acting more like a child than a tween, but he didn't care.

"O, forever's just a word, m'lad. She'll be back before you know it."

"No, she won't. She's to be wed in May! I'm giving up on this whole love business!" Frodo exclaimed, hiding his face in his hands.

"O, lad, there are more fish in the sea. You'll find new loves throughout your life. Don't give up so quickly," Bilbo said, giving Frodo a sympathetic pat on the back. Frodo just blinked at him uncomprehendingly. "Hmmm… I know what'll cheer your spirits."

"What, Bilbo?"

"A dance, m'boy!"

Before Frodo could protest, Bilbo had grabbed Frodo and was whirling him around the dance floor. Too stunned by the abruptness of Bilbo's ambush and too enthralled to care, Frodo danced the night away with his cousin, laughing incessantly.

Gypsy may have been gone, but at least he'd always have Bilbo by his side.

* * *

Awwwwwwww, Hobbity family values! I actually liked that ending for once. Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Thanks for your patience! _sings And thanks for all the fish! _


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